


Somethin' 'Bout His Manners

by iaintafraidofnoghostbear



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, First Time, Knotting, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-15
Updated: 2019-12-15
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:34:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21800662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iaintafraidofnoghostbear/pseuds/iaintafraidofnoghostbear
Summary: Mitch is itchy, hot, and wondering if he’s lost his mind. After all, it was one of the Flyers who had taken him down, spraining his ankle; why is he waiting for one to arrive to help him through his heat?
Relationships: Mitch Marner/Ivan Provorov
Comments: 6
Kudos: 197





	Somethin' 'Bout His Manners

**Author's Note:**

> Sort've a sister fic to my TK/Crosby fic ["Forever In a Minute](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19307386) though far less plotty and fluffy.   
Title also from Havana by Camila Cabello.  
As always, thanks to trashcoon for the beta <33

Mitch hates waiting. It’s bad enough that he’s injured and unable to play, nevermind all of the chaos with the media and Keefe coming into the picture - 

At least he’d been able to travel with the team. It had been nice to be with the guys, enjoying the high of the win with them before returning home. 

Now, though, Mitch is itchy, hot, and wondering if he’s lost his mind. After all, it was one of the Flyers who had taken him down, spraining his ankle; why is he waiting for one to arrive to help him through his heat? 

A knock pulls Mitch out of his reverie. He gingerly gets to his feet, hobbling across the living room to open the door. Provorov is on the other side, looking a little awkward with his bag slung over his shoulder. His alpha pheromones hit Mitch like a brick wall, and it makes him go weaker in the knees than he’ll ever admit. 

“Hey. Uh, thanks for coming. Come in.” 

Mitch settles back on his couch while Provorov takes off his shoes and sets his bag down. He waves him over when Provorov looks unsure of his welcome, shifting over a little more even though he’s already on the far side of the couch. 

“How’s your ankle?” Provorov asks bluntly. Mitch wants to be annoyed by it, but Provorov looks sure and - hell - he actually looks like he cares. 

“I’m off the crutches. Couple more weeks in the boot then I can try skating.” 

“Good.” He doesn’t apologize for his team, but seems genuine enough. “Do you need anything right away? I can run out and pick up stuff, if you want.” 

And that’s interesting; Mitch hadn’t really expected Provorov to be one of those alphas who needed to do things for their omegas. Of course, with Mitch anxious and on the brink of heat, he supposes it makes sense that the alpha has caught on to the tension and feels driven to help. 

“No, I’m good. I stocked up. But if you wanna grab me an Omegalyte? There’s Gatorade, too, if you want one.” 

“Sure.” Provorov is quiet as he pads to the kitchen, coming back with a bottle of Omegalyte that he passes to Mitch and a Gatorade for himself that he cracks open, downing a third of it at once. 

“So this is awkward, huh?” Mitch finally says. 

Provorov snorts and shoots him a wry smile. “Yeah. Guess so. Is there like … anything I can do? Or anything you want me to know?” 

Mitch weighs his options before he answers. “Just don’t mark me. Or bite my neck. It makes me nervous.” 

“Of course. That’s fine. Is there anything else?” 

“No.” Keeping an alpha’s teeth away from his neck is usually challenge enough, and Mitch doesn’t know Provorov well enough to ask for some of the things he would want.

They settle in to watch a movie, and Provorov - Ivan, he insists on being called when Mitch hesitates in addressing him - orders food for them. Mitch knows he’ll start tonight, can feel the restlessness starting to build, but all they can do is wait it out. 

Mitch doesn’t realize he’s listing into Ivan’s side until the alpha wraps an arm around him. Hesitantly, he settles closer, taking a single, slow breath that has Ivan’s scent filling his nose. Ivan smells warm, like coffee and cinnamon. Mitch can’t help but scent him, embarrassment making him flush hotly when he realizes he’s buried his nose against Ivan’s neck. 

“Sorry,” Mitch mumbles, trying to pull away, but Ivan just gives him a light squeeze. 

“It’s fine. Do what you need to. I don’t mind.” 

Though he tries to resist, Mitch’s omega instincts are pining for more of Ivan’s scent, enjoying the comfort of the smell as well as trying to glean anything about the near-stranger Mitch is cuddled up to. There’s another scent along Ivan’s shirt collar - something hotter, like a campfire, with a biting note of metal. It takes Mitch a moment to place it, but he realizes the scent is Giroux. He blinks and noses at that spot again, just to be sure; it’s definitely the Flyers captain and Mitch has to wonder how tightly knit a team has to be for even the alphas to smell like their captain. 

Finally, when Mitch finds himself battling the urge to straddle Ivan’s lap, Ivan nuzzles the top of his head. “I think we should move to the bedroom.” 

“‘kay,” Mitch mumbles, loath to move but he knows doing so will be easier sooner rather than later. Dizziness hits him when he stands, and Ivan catches him gently as he stumbles. His heat, now that it’s started, seems to have hit him all at once. “Oh.” 

“Yeah. I wondered if you were there. You smell so sweet.” Ivan’s voice is soft, but there’s a hint of alpha rumble that makes Mitch shiver. Thankfully, Ivan focuses on moving them down the hallway to Mitch’s bedroom, helping Mitch to sit. His hands are steady and gentle as he strips Mitch out of his clothes before turning his attention to his own. 

Mitch slumps back onto the mattress with a grateful groan; he hates how dizzy he gets during heat, and laying down always helps. He whines when Ivan coaxes him to sit up, cracking one eye at the alpha as he tries to protest, but Ivan’s lifting him up anyway, pressing a glass of water to his lips. “Your temperature is high already. You should drink this.” 

Letting out another small whine, Mitch does as suggested. The water is cool and he feels a bit more clear-headed after finishing most of the glass. 

“Thanks.” He feels a bit embarrassed about it, but Ivan just presses a kiss to his temple and helps him lay back down. 

Hazily, Mitch watches as Ivan strips out of his own clothes, dropping them in a pile with Mitch’s in a way that makes his omega instincts purr. He’s reaching out for Ivan before he can stop himself, and Mitch is glad when Ivan comes easily. They move up the bed so their legs aren’t dangling off, and Ivan lets Mitch burrow close, the two of them relaxing into each other for just a moment. 

“Need you.” Mitch mumbles the words into the skin of Ivan’s chest, but the alpha hears him anyway. 

“I’ve got you.” Ivan rolls Mitch onto his back, pinning him with only his body weight but it’s enough to get Mitch moaning. Hands nudge his thighs apart so Ivan can fit between them while being mindful of his ankle, and they skim up his waist to trail along his ribs and pluck lightly at his nipples. 

“God. Please don’t tease, I’m -” This heat has hit its peak  _ fast _ , and Mitch feels like his tenuous control is slipping. 

“Shh, Mitch.” Kissing Mitch deeply, Ivan slips a hand down between his legs to trail his fingers through Mitch’s slick. He eases one and then two inside, moaning against Mitch’s lips. “Fuck, you are ready, huh.” 

Mitch whimpers and nods, whimpering louder when Ivan moves away from him. He’s back quickly enough, condoms in hand and he wastes no time in rolling one on. The head of his cock presses up against Mitch’s hole and then in, a stretch that immediately soothes some of the burning in Mitch’s body. “Fuck, don’t let me hurt you,” Ivan gasps, even as he rolls his hips so he’s completely inside. 

“Not, you’re not, do it.” 

Wrapping his arms around Ivan’s neck, Mitch clings tightly as the alpha starts to move. A hazy part of his mind gives Ivan credit for trying to be gentle at first, kissing Mitch’s face and throat in an attempt to calm him. That gradually falls by the wayside until Ivan is growling into Mitch’s shoulder, rutting in sharp and quick. 

Mitch jerks when he feels Ivan kiss his throat, the vibrations of his growl pressed right into Mitch’s skin. He has to work to find his voice, but Mitch manages to gasp out, “Don’t - don’t bite me.”    
  
“Won’t, I swear I won’t,” Ivan’s voice is tight and it devolves immediately back into a growl. Still, he keeps his word, doing no more than mouthing at Mitch’s neck and nuzzling at the spot where his scent glands hide just below the surface. 

A cry falls from Mitch’s lips when Ivan’s thrusts turn shorter and his knot starts to fill, every drag in and out tugging at his rim until Ivan pushes in deep and can’t pull out anymore. It ties Mitch tightly to him, so big it aches and throbbing so much that Mitch comes from the mere brush of Ivan’s fingers over the head of his dick. 

They wind up in a sweaty pile, Ivan’s face buried against Mitch’s throat. He’s heavy, but holds enough of his own weight to keep from pressing Mitch uncomfortably into the bed or putting pressure on his ankle. Loosening his grip, Mitch flexes his fingers to rid them of the stiffness gained while he’d clung to Ivan. He laughs in surprise when the alpha starts to purr as Mitch strokes over his back, and the sound of it turns Mitch into even more of a puddle. 

Pushing himself up on his arms, Ivan gives Mitch a slow, soft kiss. “How’re you feeling? Is your leg okay?” 

Mitch gives an experimental wiggle, stretching his legs as best he can in their position. “Really good,” he admits. “Your knot is huge. In a good way,” he reassures, seeing concern flicker across Ivan’s face. “And my leg is fine.” 

“Good. We can change position, if you want.” 

Together, they roll slightly so they’re resting on their sides, tucked together as comfortably as they can get while still tied and with Mitch’s boot in the way. Mitch lets himself drift, hearing Ivan’s breathing go steady and even as well. He’s not sure that he sleeps long, but he wakes up in time to feel Ivan gently slip out of him. The bed rocks as Ivan moves to get rid of the condom, but then he’s back and Mitch doesn’t hesitate before snuggling into his arms. 

“You’re a good heat partner,” he mumbles, just loud enough for Ivan to hear. 

“I’m glad you think so. I wasn’t ah, sure how’d you’d feel after everything.” He looks awkward, face a little pink when Mitch glances up at him. With a sigh, Mitch pats his arm. 

“I know it wasn’t your fault. And that he probably didn’t mean to. But I won’t lie, I wasn’t sure what you were going to be like.” 

Ivan nuzzles Mitch’s temple lightly. “Yeah. I can get that. I don’t - I wouldn’t ever want to make it a bad time for someone. It sucks as it is.” He’s quiet then, the two of them just breathing together in the silence of the room for a while until Ivan speaks again. “I’m gonna go get you an Omegalyte and some food. I can already smell your scent building up, and you should have something before we go again.” 

Instinctively, Mitch is loath to let Ivan leave the bed, but he knows that he’s right. The first day of his heat is one quick spike after another before it settles out into needing to knot only every 8 hours or so for the last day and a half. Ivan’s back quickly enough, helping Mitch to sit up and cracking the bottle of Omegalyte for him. He’s brought one of the tubs of fruit Mitch had prepped for himself, setting it on the bed between them as he sips at his own Gatorade. 

Soon enough, Mitch’s temperature starts to spike, and the last bites of fruit are abandoned in favor of Ivan taking him again, this time on their sides so they won’t need to move again after. Mitch falls solidly asleep afterward, their mixed scents heavy in his nose and he wonders briefly just how much shit the team would give him for putting Ivan on his request list for his heats. 


End file.
